I spent the majority of my day finalizing this project for portfolio. There’s still so much to do. The above is a test mock up. I’m getting ready to print the final and mark it up. What pisses me off is for some reason Franny and Zooey is a tad taller than the rest. I want to put it through a guillotine. I don’t know why the publisher did that.
Tags: Graphic Design, handlettering, j.d. salinger, portfolio, typography
I think in this day in age, we’re starting to see a serious decline in the print industry. it’s sad to say but, print is dying. with the invention of the internet and popularity of blogs, many people no longer feel the need to purchase magazines or continue their subscriptions.
Giant Robot has grown to become a cultural icon, with it’s long run publication and their gallery/stores across the country. Although the focus of their magazine was Asian/Asian American Pop Culture, the content of the magazine touched on a range of topics that could appeal to anyone regardless of your background. I remember hearing about them in high school and came to really adore them in my first year of college. I remember I, along with my friends, Nisa and Tiffany dreamed of one day creating and owning an establishment like Giant Robot. GR has had an influence on me and had a hand in making me the person I am today. They introduced me to Kozyndan‘s insane panaramics, Twinkie Chan‘s food scarves, and Barry McGee’s alterego Ray Fong. They had a huge influence in developing my love for art and design.
And now, they’re in trouble. We’ve already seen I.D. Magazine announce that they’re folding back in Dec. 2009. How many more extraordinary magazines must we see disappear? I really do no want to see GR go under in my lifetime.
Help them out with a donation! With your support, they can continue producing this amazing publication.
Tags: donate, giant robot, magazine, pop culture, print is not dead, support
this is a delayed post mostly because i spent most of my Thursday thinking about how much his work has had an influence on me. the following is one of my favorite obituaries posted by Patrick of Vroman’s Bookstore:
What do say at a moment like this? In a way, we’ve felt Salinger’s loss for years — the great author in seclusion in rural New England. Occasionally, though, evidence of his existence seeped out — a photograph of him at the supermarket, maybe, pushing a cart like a mortal, like a person who needed milk and carrots. He gave the world four books and assorted short stories, but his legacy far outweighs the volume of his output. His novel Catcher in the Rye, as I’ve noted before, served as many people’s entry into the world of literary fiction. It was that rare novel that everyone read, either in school or on their own. For many, it was a watershed moment that led to a lifetime of reading. For others still it was the beginning of something else, a life spent trying to create something like it.
Start where most of us did: with the iconic covers. Catcher in the Rye, depending on when one found it, featured a brilliant red-orange carousel. It looked to me like an angry book at the time, and of course it is. And his other paperbacks were studies in simplicity. All white, with those rainbow stripes in the corner. They were striking; they stood out from the other cluttered books on the school library shelves, with their illustrations, their boasting. A Salinger book didn’t need to boast, it didn’t need to announce itself. If one were to encounter them now, the comparison would be easy to make: they’re like the Google homepage.
And what was inside those books was incredible. I was, maybe, an atypical reader, in that I didn’t devour the young adult literature of the time. I can’t recall reading and enjoying a book before my sophomore year of high school, and Salinger’s work — not just Catcher, but the dazzling, wonderful story collection Nine Stories — was one of the first books to turn me on to reading. For that, I’m forever grateful. Salinger’s characters weren’t like me, per se, but they were identifiable as people, often extraordinary people. His books had a meaning that wasn’t immediately apparent; they resisted my teenage insistence on simplicity — either this or that. They were simultaneously funny and sad, a combination that would prove to be a favorite of mine ever after.
The man was fascinating as well. For one thing, he was gone. After a wildly successful literary career, he retreated from the public eye. A bit of a religious schizophrenic (he even dabbled, briefly, in Scientology), the influence of Vedantic Hinduism can be seen in his work and his life, as he withdrew from many of the obligations and trappings of the modern world, his status as the literary world’s foremost recluse secure. He hid without Thomas Pynchon’s playfulness, without that winking desire to be noticed. Indeed, at times, he seemed to have a disdain for his readers, fighting vociferously, at times, to keep new books from surfacing (as was his right, it should be said). His ambivalence about publishing only enhanced his mythology. It’s difficult to imagine an author pulling the same trick in this day and age. The world has changed too much.
Whatever his beliefs were at the end, I hope Salinger died at peace with his family and friends. I think it’s a safe bet he didn’t worry much about his legacy, and with good reason — he didn’t need to.
Tags: j.d. salinger, literature, obituary, r.i.p., remembrance